Too Far
by RegenTaenzer
Summary: A meeting goes more awry than usual, bringing America to walk out. This leads to a confession and far more trouble than America has bargained for. AmericaEngland; rating may change in later chapters.


"Augh!" America roughly sat down against a wall, crouched and ruffled his hair with one gloved hand. "They all went too far!"

The meeting had gone even worse than usual, which was pretty damn bad. Everything was going 'alright,' though there was certainly that typical grumbling every so often. Then, that's when it took the turn for the worst. England had gone and said something rude about him, no surprise there.

France agreed, still not surprising. Other countries started piping in as if it were a competition on how much they could go about insulting the prominent North American country. Well, it finally came down to one of the most recent of England's onslaught of degrading commentary, it had pushed far beyond the line of their usual teasing.

It was not heroic of him at all, and he would rather not admit that. Rather, he liked to think of it in the light that he probably looked really cool doing it. America had turned with little to no expression and marched his heroic self out of there. After all, why should he listen to them when they were just going to go on about how horrible and annoying and interloping and stupid and officious and - well, you get the point. Its not as if he did anything to deserve that, right? All he ever did was help everyone, but they never liked to see that helpful, selfless America!

But England. Where should he start! There was so much that he found annoying about him too. He could think about something wrong with every country if he wanted, but he was just that damned nice that he would ignore those flaws in favor of just seeing them through their trouble. Hell, he was always having to deal with his own affairs alone while everyone expected him to devote himself to their cause so that they could succeed. But England! He should know better!

He just had to cool off. A hero can't lose his cool, you know.

When he was leaving, the room had grown uncomfortably quiet as each county fell into stunned silence. It almost made America feel very smug about what he'd just done. That'd show them.

So here he was, frustrated and leaning crouched against a wall in the bathroom. It wasn't quite the den of a hero, but it was _somewhere_ that he could get peace and quiet. Though, now that he was there, he wasn't sure what to do now, or even why he chose this room in particular. He couldn't just wander back into the meeting, and he didn't really want to run into any of them for a while. The likelihood that someone might show up was very high, too.

Begrudgingly, the hero stood, brushed himself off and casually strolled out of the bathroom with his hands in his pockets. Well, he was until he walked right into something that sounded suspiciously like the worst of his previous offenders when it shouted.

"Watch it, you git!" England shot a glare that America had expected when he looked up. He was looking impatient, which was probably due to the entirety of circumstance. America had run off from the meeting in what he felt was a tantrum, only to run headlong into him as if he was too busy shirking to pay attention.

Frankly, America had half the mind to just walk away with nothing but a sour look. It would be gratifying, yet nothing noble. That being said, walking away was not becoming of a hero because heroes must deal with their problems as they come along. Instead of a tactical retreat, America stood his ground and began to argue as if it were so much better. "What was that back there?"

The questioned man clicked his tongue in a tut, "I should be asking you the same thing, America. You threw a wobbly and marched your arse out of the room! That's unbecoming of a nation."

"You know," the younger nation tried to hold himself back from punching the other, "Just 'cause you're bitter and hate me is no reason to rip me up like that!" He balled his hands into fists, raising only one slightly in an argumentative stance.

"You do it to me all the time. Beside that, you have never seemed bothered before now about it!" England had crossed his arms, taking on his own defensive stance as he stared coolly at his ex-colony.

At this, America shook his head and hissed, "You never go that far, Arthur! Not like that. All I ever do is try to help everyone when they need it and impress you, but nobody seems to appreciate it. I'm not lazy or selfish. Stupid either! I just don't like to hear you guys saying bad things about me, so I tune it out. Its not like you guys don't have annoying stuff too."

As impatient as the European was feeling with his American counterpart, he listened. England closed his eyes and sighed in slight annoyance, "You're always sticking your nose where it doesn't belong. It's no wonder that you alienate people."

"I'm helping though," he replied dully.

"A noble cause, really; however, you need to let us solve our own problems unless we ask you for your help." And here, England had only wanted to go to the bathroom and return to the meeting with no issues to sort out between the two locations. It was tempting to just walk around him and go about his business, but he also wanted to lecture America for his behavior. After all, that was abominable! Not that he considered his berating to have been bad behavior, though. "Honestly, I wonder where I went wrong in raising you. Spoiling a naughty child, I suppose."

America gritted his teeth, "You don't know when to stop, do you?"

This accusation was met with a glower.

"You act like I'm the worst thing you've ever laid eyes on!" the North American nation shouted. England opened his mouth to object, but was simply talked over. "I know you don't like me, but I've always wanted to make you proud by being big, strong and useful. Maybe I can't really judge situations or anything like that really well, but that doesn't mean you have to go as far as you did today!"

America went from raising his voice to suddenly muttering with a bit of a pout on his face while shoving his hands in his coat pockets, "I don't see why I love you. You're really a jerk."

"I don-- Hold it. What did you say?" The European had begun his retort, only to have realized just what the American had muttered. Well, what he thought America said.

Simply, the younger nation shrugged, "Nothing." It was enough that he'd said it once! Besides, England had been so cruel before; so why should he put himself out again to have something more important attacked?

"Bloody 'ell, Alfred! Out with it. I raised you, and I can tell when you're hiding something." There was a blush spreading across England's cheeks, though he still insisted upon acting angry about this whole thing. He couldn't decide whether he wanted his former colony to say that he did love him or to say something completely different. He had feelings for America, but this was something he would never, ever admit no matter how much he wanted.

Alfred squirmed a little, not wanting to admit it a second time. Still, England _was _right and he knew it. There never seemed to be much he could get past the man that raised him sometimes if he set his determined British mind to it. "Fine! I said you're a jerk and I don't know why I love you. Jeez, Arthur. You can be a real pain in the ass, y'know…"

If it weren't for the shock of this (rude) confession of America's feelings, England would have scolded him of his rudeness and lack of grammatical sense. However, he was currently gawking at the other man while his mouth floundered to try and find something, anything, for him to say. "I… America… I… I didn't even know!"

"Yeah, I know." He frowned; America really wanted to just go. Where he would go, he wasn't quite sure but he knew he wanted to get out of where he was right now. Home was sounding very appealing, and it didn't even matter that he had to take a long plane trip either! "Can I go now, Arthur?"

England shook his head, as if to dismiss all the thoughts were bubbling about in his mind. "N-no, uh. I'm sorry, America. Its…" He exhaled, "I suppose you can go if you want."

It was undeniable that America was quite upset to hear - or rather not hear - that Arthur was going to easily just let him walk away and not say anything about his confession of love. Then again, this was Arthur! England had hated him ever since he had declared, fought for, and won his independence. It was insane to even think he might be loved back.

With a curt nod, Alfred mechanically walked away.


End file.
